In Too Deep
by konARTISTE
Summary: PostHBP. All his life, Draco Malfoy is trying to live up to his father's wishes. He tries to break free from Voldemort's cage, but he can't get out. But he becomes determined to get his life back.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n.: i own nothing recognisable! Please enjoy my first attempt on an angsty fic!**

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After flicking the blond strand of hair, that hung before his eyes, back, he walked to the punch bowl that was stalled on a round table. He did his best not to meet the eyes of the snobby people around him. The punch had a colour that summonned skin – crawling memories to the ghost of his eye. Red. Red like his mother's eyes when she had nursed his wounds. Red like the blood that had dripped from them. Red like the blood that was puddled around the unfortunate first that had fallen in front of his feet. Draco Malfoy remembered seeing his reflection in it. 

Even more stinging memories rolled into his troubled mind as he stared into the punch bowl. They came in waves, each one higher than the previous one. He frowned, but couldn't keep them from crashing onto his shores. The expectations, the assumption and the prejudice. The increasing pressure, the pain and the inner struggle. Not to mention the threat, the danger and the failed plans.

Keeping his gaze on the red mirror image of himself to stop the events from playing again and again in his mind, he felt eyes boring in his head. He was being watched. But he didn't care. He would always be watched, where ever he was. So why would he be bothered now?

_He_ had watched him too. But not with eyes filled with disdain, loathing or fear. He had watched him with kind, understanding and sympathising eyes. And he had still looked at him in the same wat when he, Draco Malfoy, had raised his wand on him, Albus Dumbledore. The old wizard had smiled at him and said_: "Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."_

How that quietly uttered sentence had started to break down the vast walls of false hope and bravado he had built in his mind. And the old man had spoken the sheer truth, no matter how hard Draco fought against it. His façade had melt away, the fear in his reddened grey eyes visible for the Headmaster.

"_Haven't got any other options!"_ he had said._ "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"_

"_I can help you, Draco."_ Albus had said. But Draco had known he couldn't be saved. He had been lured in too deep in the deathly catacombs of Voldemort. There had been no turning back.

"The seventh of June, seven o'clock. Be here." No turning back. The words echoed in Draco mind in a deathly cold and heartless voice. That voice. Those eyes. The threat.

The cause of that horrible, yet inevitable event. The masked, black-cloaked witches and wizards had stormed past, attacking everything that moved, including students. Hexes and jinxes had flown past his ears, narrowly missing him. One had hit a student, the Avada Kedavra.

Draco winced as guilt washed over him. HE had been the one to let the Death Eaters enter Hogwarts. He was the one responsible for the suffering and death of fellow students. _But what else was I supposed to do? Let the Dark Lord kill my family?_

The old wizard Dumbledore had looked at him in a way none of the people present at his 17th party had ever looked at him, save his mother.

He was still being watched. The prickling in his neck kept increasing, when all of a sudden, it stopped. Shaking of his mild confusion, he pushed away all Dumble-thoughts and focused on his reflection. His eyes, that once sparkled with arrogance, were a dull grey. The sparkle had died alond with the Headmaster. There were bags under his eyes and his skin was a sickly yellow. A flare of dismay rose up from deep inside of him when he noticed his unhealthy appearance. He plunged the ladle he had been holding for the previous minutes into the bowl, causing the still scarlet surface to break. His reflection faded, but the tormenting memories remained the same. How he wished he could be his reflection.

All at once, the prickle that had been absent for a while, returned in an excruciating way. Pain soared through his veins, his muscles cramped up and he screamed out his agony. It was as if his spinal cord was about to snap in to with the intensity he doubled, squirmed an writhed. His body had hit the cold, stone floor in a way he knew he would be bruised. But he didn't care about the bruises, about the chronic pain he would get from the Cruciatus Curse. It was too much for him; he wanted to end the suffering. He wanted to die. But the pain continued for what seemed, hours, when it finally came to an end.

'Weak!' spat a low, silky voice. 'No son of mine is _weak_!' Draco looked up, with heaving chest and dilated eyes, at his father and aunt Bella, who held a wand to his heart. Everybody, except for Narcissa Malfoy, his mother, burst in laughter when Bellatrix sneered: 'A birthday gift... From the Dark Lord.'

He was still panting when he stuffed the gold and the few robes in his knapsack. The pain always continued after the Cruciatus Curse had lifted. It was an endless suffering for Draco Malfoy, yet he couldn't complain. And he didn't. The chronic pain had become a part of his life.

He ripped the silver chain with the black pendant from his neck. Its petite shackles cutting the sides of his neck. The pendant. It was a family heirloom: the grandfather of Draco had found it during the WOI of the Muggles. Since then it was passed on to the firstborn son. He traced the cool silver that was encoiled around the so-called black "diamond". _"No son of mine is weak!"_

_So be it, father._ He gritted his teeth when a gut-wrenching feeling came over him and he threw it on the floor. _You deny me as your son, then I deny you as my father._

He, wincing, grabbed his knapsack, his wand and his broomstick. 'Alohomora!'

The window flew open and he flew through the window, planning to return this mansion ever again.

He cast a Disillusionment Charm over himself and increased the speed. The wind played with his hair and even though he'd have to face his father and You-Know-Who in two days, a sense of freedom washed over him.

_So… Where to?_

**(A/n: Review if you want the next chapter! Draco discovers something very upsetting and meets someone who unknowingly has a place in his heart. **

This fic, originally one-shot, is a background-info fic, for my grand Draco fic. If you care to know what it is about, just contact me!)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N : I do not own Linkin Park's Somewhere I Belong or HP. Enjoy.

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When this began  
I had nothing to say  
And I'd get lost in the nothingness inside of me  
I was confused

Looking everwhere only to find  
That its not the way I had imagined it all in my mind  
So what am I  
What do I have but negativity  
Cause I can't justify the way everyone is looking at me  
Nothing to loose  
Nothing to gain, hollow and alone  
And the fault is my own and the fault is my own

I wanna heal  
I wanna feel  
Like I'm close to something real  
I want to find something Ive wanted all along  
Somewhere I belong

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_Where to? _He thought, _Anywhere but the Malfoy Manor. I can't stand living with my father any longer. I already have to obey a creep that wants to take over the world. To be frank with myself, being a Death Eater isn't the way I imagined it. Everywhere I go, people are whispering behind my back. Girls, even Slytherin ones, run away from me when I turn to speak to them. But then again, I can't justify myself. I have become a Death Eater and it's all my own fault._

No friends, no loving family, no partner, no future. All the things he did not have weighed heavier with the things he did have. Pure blood, money, good looks… He could not shake the heavy thought and the hollow feeling off himself. He flew down to a Muggle street, where a map could be found behind a tree.

'London,' he murmured to himself, 'alright then.'

He had a plan; he would go to London and… _No, _he realised_, when they find out I've fled, they'll immediately go to London to find me there. I need to go somewhere, somewhere I once belonged. So I can let my chronic pain heal… _A sense of dread washed over him. _No… I can't go to Hogsmeade… I can't force myself to see what damage I have caused to that homely, warm village. I can't bring myself to go anywhere near Hogwarts._

He racketed his mind for other options. _I can't go to any family members… they'd turn me in the second I enter the house. Well… Except for aunt Andromeda and her family, but I can't trust them. Can't trust anyone. They are all backstabbers. I will have to go to Hogsmeade…_

Hogsmeade was no longer Hogsmeade. It was the debris of a battlefield. Houses were burnt down, destroyed or simply vanished. There were only a few buildings left standing, including the The Three Broomsticks, where light was burning. He strolled down the once bustling street, looking for somewhere to spend the night.

There was one house, partly intact, partly burned down. With his wand out, he kicked the door open and entered a narrow hall. He continued down to the kitchen, which was also partly intact. Large chunks of wood were covering the floor. He walked carefully to a cupboard and opened it. Some biscuits, jars filled with beans or nuts and a bottle of Firewhiskey.

_That should do for tonight, I suppose,_ he thought and went up the scorched stairs. There were three rooms and a bathroom - or what was left of it. He checked out the rooms, his wand still out. One was destroyed, the other two had some cracks in the walls or holes in the floor, but besides that, they seemed habitational. He opened a wardrobe in one of the rooms and food some robes that were his size.

'Good,' he muttered to himself, 'I better change into these… Better to stay incognito.' He checked them for any jinxes and slipped them on. There were some more black robes and also a set of brown ones. He shrunk them to an inch and put them in his knapsack, but not before taking out his own recognisable ones, burning them and Vanishing the ashes.

He also found a cap, which was all too better. Finding nothing else of use, he entered the other room. The bed in that room seemed very comfortable and launched himself on it. It bounced and a smile appeared on his face for the first time since long. He put his belongings on or next to the nightstand and began to make himself more comfortable, when something poked him in the side.

_What the…?_ He noticed a lump beneath the heavy, white bed covers and lifted them to see what it was.

'Bloody hell!' he gasped and fell off the queensize bed in shock, his eyes dilated. His white face peered at the lump.

It was a child of no older that a year. Its curly blonde hair surrounded its chubby face. The child, presumably a boy, was staring straight past Draco, not even blinking his chocolate brown eyes. _There is something odd about this child_, thought Draco and reached out to touch the infant's skin. It was cold, a deathly cold.

'Damn! He's… he is…' Draco was not able to say "dead". He all of a sudden felt nauseous and staggered backwards.

_This child… Death Eaters must have attacked this house's family and the parents must have hidden him from the Death Eaters, to save him. They must have hoped someone would find him…Damn it! Nobody did! The Oxy-charm couldn't last too long and he must smothered by the heaviness… _

He stared at the baby boy. An infant, a soul of innocence, lost because of… _me._

'Ugh.. Damn!' Draco ran to the remainder of the bathroom and hurled out the contents of his stomach.

'Damn it…' he swore. The sour smell burned in his nose and his throat was dry. 'What must I do with the body?'

He gazed outside. The light of the Three Broomsticks was still burning…

Ten minutes later, a door opened and a screech broke the cool silence of the night.

Draco swore. He had chosen not to sleep in the bed where he had found the baby, but in the other room.  
He chugged down some Firewhiskey straight from the bottle and swore some more. 'Damn you, Saint Potter. Damn you!'

There was a gaping hole in the ceiling, showing a stretch of starry sky. He could pick out Mars easily from the shattered, twinkling lights. He always felt at ease under the stars. As if they were silently watching over him. The stars would never betray him, like his own family had done.

He had once considered having a career in Astronomy. After all, his whole family enjoyed it. When he told his father that he might find his future in the stars, Lucius Malfoy had laughed in his face and told him: _"You moron! You're future lies with the Dark Lord, not with those bloody stars! Now get lost."_

So he stopped considering it. It had been a foolish mistake to even think about it, anyway.

_My bloody father… always ruining everything for me. My life, my hobbies, my future, my relationships. Can't believe I once saw him as my idol. What a bloody illusion… Life sucks and then you die, Draco. _

He downed the last bit of Firewhiskey and was knocked out by the alcohol.

The next morning, he woke up with a nasty headache.

'Damn…'

With difficulty, Draco sat up and held his throbbing head in his hands. He felt as if every squared inch of his skin was bruised and every bone in his body was crushed. He dropped himself back on the bed and stared at the hole in the ceiling. The sky was filled with omnious clouds.

Deciding it was not wise to stick around in one place, he stood up and made his way to the bathroom with difficulty. His head spun with nausea and dizziness.  
When he finally had stumbled into the chaotic washroom, he came to a halt before the sink. Above the sink hung the fragments of a once beautiful mirror.

'Damn it!' Swore the blonde youth upon seeing his own reflection in the mirror. He used to have a flawless skin, perfect, white blonde hair and the healthiest appearance of the whole Slytherin house. But now… he had circles under his eyes, a sickly pale skin and messy, greasy yellow hair. He stared at the diagonal cuts in the sides of his necks. They were thin, but a dark red and deep.  
Suddenly the scene flashed in front of his eyes. Everything was red like blood… bodies were littered on the ground… the groans and whimpers of the hurt and dying had filled his ears and clouded his mind. Draco lost control of his knees and sunk to the mouldy floor, trembling. He stayed there for half an hour, struggling to keep his mind clear. When he managed to do so, he forced himself to his feet.

He continued washing himself without even a glance in the mirror, afraid that he would throw up if he did so.

As if in a daze, Draco watched the bed burn. The sound of someone singing started him. He glanced around, but did not see anything. Deciding that it was rather queer for someone to sing in such a dead place, he stood up, collected his belongings and left the house.

It was late in the afternoon and it looked as if it was going to rain.  
_Tomorrow is the day I have to face the two most hateful men in the world_… thought Draco miserably_, I don't want to go, but I have to. Maybe I won't come back alive. You-Know-Who is most likely to kill me and if he doesn't, I'm sure father will._

He slowly made his way to the Three Broomsticks. He had changed his hair colour and voice for an hour, so madam Rosmerta would not recognise him so easily.

Cheerful singing reached his ears and he looked around. The singing came from the Three Broomsticks. He peered through the dirty window and saw two women dancing around the tables. One was madam Rosmerta and the other one looked familiar.

_I can't put my finger on it, but I know I have seen her somewhere…_

FLASHBACK

'_This way, Draco!' He heard the professor exclaim, but he didn't listen. He was so busy watching how students fought the Death Eaters with their lives, that he didn't notice that he was running in the wrong direction._

_His eyes fell upon a seventh year, who ran to two boys, who were cowering under some debris. She had black hair that cascaded down her back.  
Unnoticeably, his feet began running in her direction. From the corner of his eye, he saw one of the Death Eaters advance towards her, while she had her back turned to them._

'_The Death Eater's going to attack her!' he whispered, numbly. He had come close to the three of them and he heard the boy with black hair whimper. 'He's bad! That boy is bad! Keep him away from us, he is going to hurt us!'_

_The boy thought that he was another Death Eater! And why would he not? He, Draco, was always boasting how Voldemort would win…  
The girl pressed the boys against her. Draco halted when she turned around and glared at him with angry, but fearful eyes._

'_Draco, you fool! Come here!'_

"_Snape. Dumbledore. And that Potter… He's after me too…I must-… Leave and save my own cowardly arse… 'Cause that's what Slytherin do…" He began stumbling backwards, his fearful eyes not leaving her fearful eyes._

'_There she is!' Cried the Death Eater._

'_Draco! Get away from there!'_

_He spun around and ran towards Snape, who immediately grabbed his arm tightly._

_Draco watched how the girl was hit by the Death Eater, with a heavy stomach, until he Side-Along-Disapparated._

END FLASHBACK

_She is alright,_ realised Draco, his heart feeling lighter than it had been in days. He quietly watched how the girl spun Rosmerta around and bumped her side with hers. Then she spun around a couple of times and raised her arms and, as was registered by his ears, her voice.

_She may be pretty, but she can't sing! _Thought Draco with a smile. Suddenly he saw the young woman double over and sink down on her knees. Instinctly, his hand reached for the doorknob and he entered the Three Broomsticks.

Rosmerta had hurried over to the girl, and both looked up the instance Draco set foot in the café, their mouths hanging open.

_Shit! _Thought Draco feebily.

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**A/N: Oh, dear. What will happen next? Review please if you thought this chapter was worth reviewing. Also do me a favour and show me my grammar/spelling mistakes. I'd be very greatful!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognisable. Please enjoy and don't forget to review!**

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_She is alright,_ realised Draco, his heart feeling lighter than it had been in days. He quietly watched how the girl spun Rosmerta around and bumped her side with hers. Then she spun around a couple of times and raised her arms and, as was registered by his ears, her voice.

_She may be pretty, but she can't sing! _Thought Draco with a small smile.

Suddenly he saw the young woman double over and sink down on her knees. Instinctly, his hand reached for the doorknob and he entered the Three Broomsticks.  
Rosmerta had hurried over to the girl, and both looked up the instance Draco set foot in the café, their mouths hanging open.

_Shit! _Thought Draco feebily.

* * *

He moved backwards to the door, his grey eyes not leaving the two women. 'Er... I.' 

When he reached for the doorknob again, Rosmerta exclaimed: 'no, wait! Where are you going?'  
'You're the first customer in days!' said the girl with a weakened voice. 'Please, stay!'

Draco did not know what to think. Here he was in the Three Broomsticks, disguised, and facing two women who were connected to "the Event" of a while ago. He had used Rosmerta by an Unforgivable and been the main cause of the girl's suffering. Yet they were inviting him, pleading him to stay.  
'You're hurt.' He murmured after a silent moment.

'I'm okay, don't worry.' The black-haired girl smiled sweetly at him and stood up. 'Please, sir. Why don't you have something to drink?'

'Kay...' Rosmerta bit her lip as the girl limped her way to the bar.

Overcome with shock and amazement, Draco could not utter a word.

'Kay, don't force yourself!' Rosmerta strode to the girl named Kay and forced her to sit down. Then she turned to Draco and said, rather breathlessly: 'so, what can I get you?'

Draco, who was staring at Kay, snapped out of his reverie and stuttered. 'Uhm... I'd - I'd like to have a Butterbeer, thanks.'

'Coming right up!' Chirped Rosmerta and forced him, too, to sit down. Unwillingly he took seat next to the girl, who smiled happily at him.

_She got attacked by a Death Eater.  
_'W-what happened to you, if I may ask?' he softly asked her.

She once again beamed at him, but her smile was somewhat awkward. 'I got hit- I mean, hurt, when I was protecting my brother and his best friend.'  
'Shouldn't you be at St. Mungo's then?' Inquired Draco after thanking Rosmerta for the Butterbeer.  
Smiling softly, she shook her pretty head. 'Nah. Not enough beds. And it's not like they _need_ me there. There are enough injured ones without me. I would only trouble them.' She stretched her muscles, allowing him to glance over her outfit.  
She was wearing a plain blue sweater, a black skirt that reached till her knees and black tights. She had high cheekbones and an elegant nose.

'So, ' asked Kay, 'where are you from?'

'London.' Lied Draco after a sip from the warm liquid.

'London...'

Suddenly, Draco realised that he had only half an hour left in his disguised form. 'I have got to go.'

'What?' Kay pouted. 'Why? Can't you stay a bit longer? It's so lonely here!'

The young wizard glanced at Rosmerta, who was watching the two of them closely.

'I can't stick around any longer, Miss.' He put a Galleon next to his now empty mug of Butterbeer and stood up.  
Suddenly, the door flew open and a gust of wind swept through the Three Broomsticks.  
'Rosmerta, baby!' Exclaimed a loud voice.  
Inaudibly, the witch winced and greeted the old wizard in a fake cheerful voice. 'Well, if it isn't Arch Gutenbaum! What are you doing here in lil' ol' Hogsmeade?'  
The aged wizard in dark green robes cheerfully strolled to her and pinched her thigh. 'I missed my Rosa, of course!'  
'He he he...' Smiled Rosmerta, rather forced.

Kay whispered something in Draco's ear when he was busy watching the old wizard's antics with mild interest. 'Oy. Please stay for a little while longer, sir.'  
'Er...' Before the Slytherin's mind could process the situation, the young witch had already taken him by the hand and was dragging him towards one of the private rooms.

'Sorry for dragging you off like that, ' said the witch as she said down on the dark red sofa, 'that man is just such a lecherous bloke! Everytime he sees a young woman, his hands all of a sudden appear on her body, pinching and tickling.' She shuddered at the thought and looked up at him, expectantly. 'Well? Aren't you going to sit down?'

He was standing near the door, still wearing his cap to cover his eyes and hair, and silently studied the scarcely decorated room. It was far from what he was used to. The floor was creaky, the table rickety, the chairs were uncomfortable and the small window was dirty. In every nook and cranny of the room was dirt. Draco was not a neatfreak, but he prefered having things cleaned and looked after.  
Kay seemed rather comfortable. He ran his eyes over her being.  
She is the only bright thing in this dark room, he mused. When his brain registered the curves of her legs, a light blush rose to his cheeks.  
_  
Damn... I've always been too fond of female legs...  
_  
He was reminded of his mother. She had always said how shameless the women of today had become. She especially disliked the girls who had the urge to bare their legs. Draco had always looked away from her, amused. He without a doubt liked those girls.  
But he had never been able to tell his mother that, because he was afraid that she would be displeased with him. And she had been the only one who truly loved him.  
He shut his eyes, trying to force away the memory of his mother.

_She won't acknowledge me anymore. Not after she has found out that I fled from my fears._

'What is wrong?'

Kay's soft voice broke through his heavy thoughts. She was still staring up at him with kind warm eyes. How he longed to be in her eyes for the remainder of his life, warmed and loved. He scolded himself.

_Again, you fool, you are longing for something you do not deserve. _

'Nothing.' He murmured. 'I have to go.'

'Why?'

'Because I have to.' He responded rather irritatedly.

She seemed oblivious to his rude tone. 'Do you want to go?'

Not being able to reply, he stared hard at the floor. No, he did not want to go.  
He heard her stand up and walk to him. When she stood opposite him, she rested a hand on his shoulder before he flinched and moved away from her.

'What is wrong?' She repeated, this time in an urging tone.

'It is none of your business, woman!' He glared at her with blazing grey eyes, for the first time actually returning her gaze. When he realised this, he quickly looked away, afraid that she might see what was hidden in the depth of his eyes.

'You selfish, little bastard!' Hissed Kay all of a sudden and he stared at her in surprise.  
'What did you call me?' Draco scowled at her.  
'A selfish, little bastard!' She repeated, now smiling. 'Ha! That caught your attention, didn't it?'  
'Women...' The Slytherin shook his head slightly and gazed out of the dirty window.  
'Oy! Don't you go off staring out of the window! It ticks me off.' Said the girl loudly. 'Now, come over here. Your eyes tell me that you need someone to talk to.' She proclaimed and for the second time that day, Draco was dragged by her.

'Sit.' She ordered and pushed him on the sofa. He gazed up at her from his sprawling position. The way she loomed over him and had ordered him to sit down caused him to think about doing naughty things on the sofa.

_O, hell no! Raging hormones..._ 'I'd be much more comfortable if we sat at the table.' He brought out with difficulty.

They sat down and again, he looked away from her, still busy trying to force away the rated fantasies he had. He felt her hand rest on his knee and he peered at her from under his cap.  
She was not helping him clear his mind.

'Why don't we have a talk - as friends?' she asked, carefully. 'You really look like you need it.'

'I don't need anything or anyone.' Grumbled Draco, pretending to be annoyed. Secretly, however, he did want to talk. But the problem was, he did not know how to have a talk as friends. He never really had a real friend.

'Sure you do! Everybody needs somebody!' The witch exclaimed, her eyes shining with passion. 'After all, if one did not have someone, they would only become bitter and depressed, because their heart would be burdened and loveless -'

'I really don't need all of that psychological babble, thank you very much!' His sneer did stop her from continuing, but not in the way Draco had expected. She was smiling.

'What?' Demanded Draco, bemused. 'What is there to smile about?'

'You are finally getting a bit comfortable around me.' She softly explained and gestured at him.  
He had taken his cloak and cap off, and was relaxing in his chair. When had he done that? He could not remember.

'Well, tell me how you feel.'

'Fine.'

'No, don't lie.' She slightly shook her head. 'How do you actually feel?'

He hesitated for a moment. 'Like shit, that's how.'

'Really? Do tell me more about it!' She gazed at him, inquiringly.

Once again, he was taken aback. Here he was, alone with her. She had not asked for his name or anything else, but acted like they had known each other for years. As if they were friends. Her eyes were focused on him, only on him.  
Draco felt like he was the most important man in the world.

'I... Left home.'

Her eyes widened. 'Left home? Why?'

'Well, you can't really call it a home. It is a big building with a few bastards in it.'

'Why did you leave?'

'They don't want me to be there. And nor do I want to be in _their_ damned company!'

He stared at the scorch mark in the table cloth, cursing his family in his mind.

'What did they do to you?'

Her voice was soft as silk and tempting him to answer her question. But how in the world could he tell her that he spent half of his time under the Cruciatus curse? How could he let her know that he never really had an loving environment and that pride and self-esteem had been more important to his family than his life?

'I... am my parents only son. They all expected me to become something who I am not. And whenever I tried to fight their grip on my life and my choices, they and other family members punished me.'

Her gasp somehow lightened the pressing burden on his weakened shoulders. 'Punish you... mentally or physically?'

He stared at her for a while, contemplating his next step.

_She is asking, so I should answer..._

The next thing he did was wordlessly ripped the collar of his robes open and exposed a great deal of his chest. 'Look. This is the gift that I got for my fifteenth birthday from my grandfather when I told him that I did not need the torturing set.' He monotonously told her while fingering the long, thin diagonal scar in his pale skin.

'Oh, my-'

'Don't worry, it will fade away someday.'

Her amber eyes widened and she stiffened. 'It will fade away, you say?' She repeated aghast. 'They... they ruin your life and - and hurt you in gruesome ways and scar you like that... And you say - it will fade away?'

He shrugged. 'It is not such a big deal. Honestly! They all did fade away. Why won't this one fade away, too?'

'They all...- You mean you've had more of them scars?' She cried in shock. The grip on his hand tightened. 'Who the hell were your parents!? Bloody Death Eaters?'

Those last words she spoke hit him right where it had hurt just a while ago. Draco bent his head and remained silent.

Even though she did not exclaim them like that, the words were accusing him. Yes, his parents were Death Eaters. In fact, his whole family was.

The worst thing about it was, that he had become one too.

Again, he was reminded of what was awaiting him tomorrow. The arm which bore the stain of his existance, the Dark Mark, time to time throbbed with pain. What was to come made his body tremble with fear and insecurity.

'...Oy!'

'Oy, blondie!'

Draco, who had been drowning in a ocean of sick anticipation, was suddenly pulled ashore by her persistent voice.

'Are you even listening to me?'

He slowly raised his head and glanced at their joined hands. Would she ever let go of his hand?

I hope not.

'What?' He asked, or rather, grunted in an annoyed voice.

'May I...' She smiled nervously and stared a few moments and the table before asking: 'may I know your name?'

'What? You want to know my name? What for?' Asked Draco, semi-angrily.

_Should I tell her my name? But why would she want to know that? She already knows about my family... My appearance..._

_She wants to turn me in._

_Damn._

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**A/n: My, this chapter is long. I hope you enjoyed reading it. Angsty stuff is not really my thing. I don't have a spelling-check-thingy on my computer, so don't be too harsh on spelling/grammar, but just correct me, please.  
Please, review! PLEASE! Just click that lil' ol' button and make me happy! Thank you.**

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	4. Chapter 4

**A/n: Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognisable. Please enjoy and don't forget to review!**

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'What?' He asked, or rather, grunted in an annoyed voice.

'May I...' She smiled nervously and stared a few moments and the table before asking: 'may I know your name?'

'What? You want to know my name? What for?' Asked Draco, semi-angrily.

_Should I tell her my name? But why would she want to know that? She already knows about my family... My appearance..._

_She wants to turn me in._

_Damn._

* * *

'Isn't it obvious why I want to know your name?' She asked non-plussed. 

He glared at her. 'If it was obvious, I wouldn't ask, would I?'

The girl shrugged. 'I never know with some people.'

He did not stop glaring at her and tugged his hand away from hers. 'Let go of me, wench.' Draco snapped and looked away.

_I could've known she was one of them... She wants to capture me and hand me over to the authorities. Why else would she be so kind to me, without even knowing me? Why else would she hold my hand and treat as one of her own?_

'Sheesh!' He heard her huff. 'You don't have to be so pissed. What is wrong with me knowing your name?'

'Tuh.' He snorted, leaning back into the chair with folded arms.

She let out a sigh and asked in a more gentle voice: 'do you think I would betray you because you're supposed to be a bad person?'

Unwillingly, he met her gaze again.

Kay gasped, her eyes shining with sorrow. 'You _do_ think I will do that, don't you?'

His stomach churned when he saw the hurt expression on her face. But it could be an act, as far as he knew. 'I do. And why wouldn't I? It is not as if you actually know me.'

Now he was positively that his words had hurt her.

'No, I don't.' She whispered, staring at her feet. 'I am sorry... I should not have asked you for your name. And I'm sorry I gave you the impression of wanting to turn you in.' Kay raised her head, her eyes shining. 'I don't want to hurt you like your parents did. I just... wanted to be your friend. So that you would not have loneliness in your eyes.'

Breathlessly he took in every word she whispered. They were slowly mending his broken heart, replacing all the negative utterings that his family had engraved in his mind. They were very sincere and Draco felt like the worst man ever to exist.

When they had met each other today, she was cheerful. But now he had punctured the bubble of happiness in her and instead made her sad. Draco felt so bad that he wanted to curse the whole world - something he always did when he was angry at himself. Today, however, her sad face held the curses back. Instead he wanted to say something that would make the flower of her smile bloom onto her face again.

But he had never been good with words. He had never spoken any true ones. What words could he use to fix the damage he had inflicted upon her by acting so cruel towards her? Such words were tools that he had never used, lay hidden away in the shed of his mind covered by a thick layer of dust. How could he blow the dust off them and use them to screw up a smile on her pretty features?

'Listen... I...' He began. She faced him and he lost the few words he had. They kept their gaze locked and he found it difficult to breathe. Finally he reached out for her hand and wrapped his pale fingers around them. 'I... Am sorry. I shouldn't have been so rude to you. I'm just... afraid.'

'You don't have to be afraid of me.' She quietly said, the sadness slowly disappearing from her face. 'I... want to be there for you. In such times, it is hard when one's family is not standing behind them. If your family is... not supporting your opinion, then atleast let me be your true friend.'

Her hand gave his a squeeze.

'I know that you find it difficult to trust people, especially in such troublesome times. And I understand that you won't tell me your name.' She smiled and he felt like he was on top of the world. 'Why don't we ... chat some more?'

He nodded.

'What do you want to talk about, then?'

She shrugged. 'Anything. You can tell me anything, because I'll keep my lips sealed.'

He nodded again, but said nothing.

'So... now you have left home, what is next?'

'Nothing.'

'Nothing? I'm sure you have got plans with your life.'

Draco raised an eyebrow. 'I haven't got any plans.'

'Oh.' Kay licked her lips nervously, obiviously not knowing what to say. 'What would you like to become?'

He shrugged. 'I can't become much.'_ Except a Death Eater or a dead man._

'What were your favourite subjects at school, then?'

'Astronomy and Transfiguration, though I'm not really good at the latter.'

'So why don't you become an astronomist? Or a starseeker, novae-predictor or solar expert? There are so many things out there to be found out. Why don't you do something with your favourite subject?'

After smiling humourlessly, he said: 'I don't even know if I'll make it through this week, so how can I think about the distant future?'

Kay pouted slightly. 'What do you mean by not making it through this week?'

'I...' Draco sighed. 'I've to go tomorrow to the Dark Lord.'

'You don't mean... Mouldyshorts?' Asked the woman, her eyes widened.

Draco blinked in confusion. 'Who?'

'You know. Voldemort. Mouldyshorts...' Kay trailed off, biting her lip, ignoring his shuddering.

'But why do you have to go to him?'

'He has a mission for me.'

'But you're still so young! You haven't even properly graduated!' Panicked the woman all of a sudden. 'You could die in that mission!'

'Get a grip on yourself, woman.' Draco grumbled, yet happy at hearing someone worry about him. 'Don't you think he knows that already?'

'He... knows?'

'Of course he does!'

'But why?'

Draco sighed. 'My dad screwed up, I had to pay for it. Then I screwed up and I have to pay for it.'

'And you are going to accept it, just like that?'

'What else do you want me to do? If I don't he will go after my mother, get her raped and tortured to the edge between life and death. I can't let that happen.' His fist was tight and the knuckles turned white from the strain.

'But you'll die!' Exclaimed Kay angrily. 'You can't just die! You're still so young.'

'So what?' Spat Draco bitterly. 'What do youth or life mean to someone who hasn't got a future? Who has been mistrusted and spit upon since the damned day he was born? It is nothing worth living for.'

'You can make life worthwhile.' She held his hand. 'It is not too late for you to change your life. You are the one to change it, to take it in your own hands and mould it into the life you always wanted to have.'

'The life I always wanted to have was nothing but a lie. From the day I was born I have been trained to think and do as a murderer. And I always thought that that was my destination - the ultimate goal in life. But now, my eyes have been opened by hundreds of green flashes. Now I have realised... My whole existence was for the damned reign of one damn, slit-eyed ba - '

All of a sudden, Draco crumbled together, clutching his arm and gasping with pain.

Voldemort had entered his mind.

Groaning, Draco shut his eyes tightly.

'Merlin!' Kay swooped down next to him. 'W-what's happening to you?'

_He must not see her. He must not see her. Please... Please..._

While the pain still soared through his bones, he stood up, his eyes still closed.

'Listen. I need to go.' He managed to utter. He grabbed her shaking hand and planted a kiss on it. Then he averted his gaze from her and stumbled to the door.

'W-wait, where are you going?'

Draco refused to reply, Voldemort and immense pain still in his being.

'St-stop, you're still hurting!'

He flung the door open, hobbled past Rosmerta and Arch, and hurried out of the Three Broomsticks into the pouring rain.

_

* * *

Part of me won't go away  
Everyday reminded how much I hate it  
Weighted against the consequences  
Can't live without it so it's senseless  
Wanna cut it out of my soul  
And just live with a gaping hole  
Take control of my life  
And wash out all the burnt taste  
I made the problems in the first place  
Hang my head low cause it's part of me  
You hardly see right next to the heart of me  
Hurting me, the routine scar  
New cuts cover where the old ones are  
And I'm sick of this  
I can't stand the sandpaper thoughts that grate on my sanity  
I rather not even be then the man that's staring in the mirror through me

* * *

_

**A/N.: Lyrics from Linkin Park's "Part of Me". So what do you think? Please review! I need the reviews for motivation and perseverance.**

**Thank you for reading and I sincerely hope you enjoyed it!**


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